


Your Love Can Do What No One Else Can

by IAmWhelmed



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrinette | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Aged-Up Character(s), Confused Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Confused Alya Césaire, Drama, F/M, Fake Ladybug, Hot Mess Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Hurt Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Jealous Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Ladybug Imposter, Ladynoir | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Ladybug, Lila Rossi Redemption, Lila salt, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Reveal, Romance, Smut, Supportive Plagg (Miraculous Ladybug), implied BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:53:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23878723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmWhelmed/pseuds/IAmWhelmed
Summary: I look and stare so deep in your eyes,I touch on you more and more every time,When you leave I'm begging you not to go,Call your name two or three times in a row,Such a funny thing for me to try to explain,How I'm feeling and my pride is the one to blame,Eh, I still don't understand,Just how your love can do what no one else can-- Beyonce, Crazy in Love RemixThings aren't going great for Marinette. Lila Rossi brings a lackey to class who claims she's Ladybug-- and everyone falls for it. She and Alya are fighting, Nino is a helpless middle man, and Adrien is head-over-heels for the imposter. She's heartbroken, alone, and mad at the world. Her family caters a small fashion event for up-and-coming designers... Enter Viktor Beaufort.Marinette begins slipping, leaving her 'Everyday Ladybug' role behind to pursue her internship-- and the steamy relationship that's budding with her boss. Of course, Alya, Adrien, and Nino take notice, and the worry begins to permeate.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 70
Kudos: 471





	Your Love Can Do What No One Else Can

“Oh, god…”

Something in her stomach coiled, like the first moment you launch into the air on a trampoline, like the first time she’d leapt from one of Paris’s olden roofs and let herself fall until the very last second-- when she caught a chimney on that yoyo of hers. “O-Ah~!”

He went faster, gripped her hips between his hands and threw every inch of himself into her, slipped through her wetness and glided into a  _ particularly _ good place. He huffed above her, the most sound she could hope to get out of him when they were in the throes. It didn’t bother her too much, not when he leaned down just like that-- buried his nose in her neck just like that. “Yes! Yes!”

She wondered, vaguely, if people could hear her. If any of the passing room service staff or maids were stopping by their door with the aim to knock, then deciding not to at the first knuckle. Maybe… maybe not. She’d be embarrassed later, but he didn’t care. He never did about that sort of thing. (Unless her parents found out… in which case he’d probably care.)

He pumped into her one last time, and her back arched as she came. Some semblance of noise must have escaped her mouth, because once he’d finished, he laid his head back in her shoulder and started chuckling. Despite herself, she pouted. “Viktor…”

“Must I invest in a ball and gag for you, Dupain-Cheng?”

She bit back the affronted grunt that built in the recesses of her throat, but her skin, from ears to her neck, turned the slightest shade of red. She hoped he’d miss it, or maybe write it off as heat from their activities. “N-No…!”

He pulled back to look at her, resting himself on his elbows that branched to either side of her waist. His fingers clasped together over her stomach, as though he was posturing himself on a mahogany desk. “You’re right, that’s a bit too vile for that pretty face of yours. Should I have you sew up some white satin, then? I imagine we’d get more than one use out of it.”

She huffed, and he chuckled some more.

In truth, she was still grateful to him, much too grateful to argue. For this weekend getaway, for his support in her work-- for everything. She’d needed it, desperately. Though he didn’t go to school with her, didn’t know any of the specifics (names, words said, friends lost), he knew she’d been having a rough time. This boy, this gifted, genius, rich boy who so happened to take pity on her broken heart a few months back at an event her parents catered-- he’d done it all to put a smile back on her face. Fed her the sweetest desserts made by his best chefs, took her to see fashion shows she’d never otherwise have gotten to see, took her shopping, took her on a ride in his Cadillac all around Paris and poured her champagne. Even this hotel room, with its thick, soft, pear-green sheets and the french balcony doors-- even the bathroom to their right that spanned twice the size of a typical. The room service and expensive robes. How she could ever repay him; she hoped someday her imagination may spark an idea. “Is that an order, Mister Beaufort, sir?”

His eyebrow twitched. “What have I told you about addressing me that way in private company?”

She grinned. “It’s prohibited.”

“And yet you still do it. Tell me, do you get off on sleeping with your boss? Should I be concerned about you saddling up with my colleagues?”

“No, sir.” No, none of them could ever compare to him.

A sharp look crossed his eyes, and he laid his chin at the valley between her breasts, calculating her smile the same as he always did. “I see, so if it’s not an authority kink, should I be worried?”

“You’re only an authority because I let you be one.”

At this he rolled off of her with a laugh, the kind where he threw his head back and wrapped an arm around his toned (very, very nice) stomach. She bit her cheek to keep from cackling at her own joke. “You wish, Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

She couldn’t help the smile that inched across her cheeks, cheek-in-teeth or no. Viktor’s company, despite his grumpy attitude and his less-than-friendly moods, made her forget things for a while.

Forget about school. Forget about Lila and her drudge. Forget about her friends turning their backs on her. Forget about being Ladybug-- forget that there was an imposter running around claiming to be her. Forget that this girl had everyone hook, line, and sinker, and any disparaging words on her part only drove her friends away.

Forget that on Darling Donna’s second day of class, Adrien took that imposter in his open arms with a giddy smile, and that she kissed him for all his bright, beautiful heart was worth.

“Is there something wrong?”

She startled and found Viktor looking at her, eyebrow raised, sitting up on his elbow and his free arm stretched across his legs. That was right. She wasn’t at school, not until they returned to Paris tomorrow. She was in bed with her boss, hiding her curves and dips under (mostly) white sheets, having the time of her life-- being treated as a real princess. This time was to forget about all of that, pack away the idea that Viktor put even her kitty to shame and be happy for a little while, so she smiled. “Oh, no! Nothing!”

She leaned up so they were eye-level, like a dare--  _ don’t believe me, fine, but don’t I look okay? _

Viktor’s cocked eyebrow lowered, and he turned and got out of bed. Internally, she sighed. “What have we said about fake smiles, Miss Dupain-Cheng?”

“Ah…”

“You’re an honest girl. Act like it.”

* * *

The flight home from Puerto Rico was surprisingly short, though she supposed she could attribute that to the private jet they were flying in. Viktor wasn’t a humble man, after all, and that extended from his office (a large room with wall-length windows and an expensive Amazon-jungle-tree desk), to his home (she’d only been once, but it was a modern mansion, white with round windows and square edges), to his cars and planes, even to her. She glanced down at the gold chain choker, a pearl-shaped diamond sitting just at the dip of her throat. No, that man liked to show off, and that included showing off his woman (intern).

She glanced at him as he poured himself a glass of whiskey, then watched as he took a tantalizing sip from the rim, how the perfectly squared cubes lined his lips and left them glistening. She swallowed hard and looked away, tried not to think about how they were the only two on this plane save for the pilot, or the jokes she could practically hear  _ her  _ inner Chat Noir making about the mile-high club. No, she wasn’t sure what she and Viktor were, yet. She was his intern, his personal assistant. He was her boss. He just happened to have popped her cherry and ravished her with expensive gifts and spontaneous trips to far-away places. They just happened to sleep together, and kiss, and go on dates. But they hadn’t put a label on it. She wasn’t sure she was ready to.

No, she thought as the plane landed. Big green eyes and an innocent smile still burned up her heart and chewed at its frayed edges.

Nobody at school knew what her relationship with Viktor was, or that she knew him. Nobody had asked about the driver waiting outside Dupont every damn day to whisk her away in a luxury vehicle (a different make every time, but every one painted in sleek black like his suits). She could hear whispers, for sure, but nobody had really said much to her since…

( _ since she ran out of the classroom sobbing _ )

Viktor walked out first, then offered Marinette his hand. She settled her fingers in his upturned palm and walked with him down the stairs in small graceful steps. The reporters were kept at bay, as usual, until they could part ways. He didn’t want her exposed to the tabloids just yet, told her that, while she was a talented designer, a mere schoolgirl shouldn’t be trouncing around the rumors in magazines. (Nevermind that she was trouncing around all over the nation with him). The paparazzi had captured her by his side a few times already, the most obvious one in Germany a few weeks prior. Thank goodness he’d convinced her to wear her hair down by then, because her signature pigtails would have betrayed too much in the shape of her jaw and the color of her eyes, even the shape of her nose in profile.

“Don’t forget, those designs are due Wednesday, and we have an appointment set for Friday morning at 9am to showcase my Spring Line.”

She glanced down at her open planner. “You also have an appearance at the Bourgeois’s gala Thursday night,  _ Mister Beaufort _ .”

His eye twitched, and she found that mirrored in one tiny corner of her lip at his name.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng--”

“Yes, sir?”

He glared at her from the side, and had those same eyes not been between her legs the night before (he bared an uncomfortable resemblance to Chat Noir when he...did that…), she might have felt a little unnerved. Right then he looked decidedly more like himself, stiff lip and tight jaw. “That wit will suit you well further down the road, but you’d best not use it with me, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” No, sir.

(She wondered if Chat’s puns made him feel the way her teasing right then, did. She could practically feel the cream on her metaphysical whiskers.)

They approached the entryway to the rest of the airport, and some people in suits, clearly lackies by the way they carried themselves over to her and Viktor, made their way over before they reached the door. Viktor turned to them as he whipped out his phone, hardly typing in a number before he brought it to his ear. “Take Miss Dupain-Cheng out the East Entrance. I’ll head North to avoid suspicion. As soon as you get her to the car-- which had better be there or Smith can kiss his raise goodbye-- escort her home. No stops unless it is of the utmost importance, and Miss Dupain-Cheng will decide that.” The various heads bobbed in response, and without so much as a goodbye, she and Viktor went their separate ways.

* * *

Per the usual, her entrance into Dupont was seldom noticed, spotted only by Alix and Rose, who waved a little in her direction with tentative smiles. Had it not been months, she might have looked for Alya, but she wasn’t much in the mood to see her latching onto Donna’s and Lila’s every word. Her best friend, maybe once-upon-a-time. Ponder it more, she didn’t need to, because she could see Lila and Donna and Alya, centered around a table, giggling together. Nino and Kim sat on either side, lost in their own conversations about who Chat Noir might be, now that they all knew who Ladybug was.

… or thought they did.

Donna brushed a finger’s grasp of long, baby’s breath blue hair over her ear in either a subconscious adjustment, or a deliberate attempt to show off the black-and-red-speckled earrings peering out from straight strands. (Marinette tucked her hair, loose in brushed strands because that’s what Viktor liked best, behind her ear in quiet rebellion, because nobody would notice her all-black opals). Quite frankly, she was surprised Hawkmoth hadn’t made a move since Alya published that gooey lie-filled segment on the Ladyblog. Surely, he was wary of her truthfulness, as well. It was a little sad, Marinette mused, that Hawkmoth knew her better than Rena Rogue, knew Ladybug would never be so open about her identity while he was still very much active. (It would hurt, but she’d have to find another wielder for that fox miraculous, if she ever had to call on Trixx again. Alya would be fuming when that day finally came. Let Donna and Lila come up with a way outta that one, though she was sure they would.) Alya glanced up from her conversation, all wide-eyes and smiles, and met Marinette’s lingering gaze.

No, she knew how this would go. Marinette looked away, pretended Alya hadn’t even been in her sight. [She didn’t notice the small frown on Alya’s face as she made her way up the stairs, or the worried furrow of her brow as she caught sight of the slight limp Marinette thought she was hiding so well].

It was always like this. Run away for a little bit with Viktor, spend the weekend seeing magnificent places, buying beautiful things, having SEX for the first time with an amazingly hot, talented, fashion prodigy... But she always had to keep the horse’s miraculous on her, just in case, and then she would come back to Paris, and she’d have to actively remind herself that she loved this city, that she loved the people in it, even if they were gullible. She loved the Eiffel Tower and the seine and the museums. She loved Paris and all its beauty. She loved everything,  _ everything _ ! She just wondered, sometimes, if Paris loved her back.

She entered the classroom well before most others did, finding only Mylene and Ivan snuggled together, listening to music in the back, and a concentrated Nathaniel drawing away at his sketchbook. She found her way to the back of the classroom, of which she had taken (this time willingly) once she found she could no longer stomach sitting right behind Adrien. No, there was no Alya to have an awkward, thick tension with, and no sights to break her heart so long as she kept her head down. She didn’t have to see Adrien turning his head every now and then to give her concerned, pitying eyes. Didn’t have to pretend she didn’t see the way Nino’s lips thinned as he struck up conversation with Alya each morning, unsure of whether or not to bring her in.

As if on cue, Adrien entered the classroom, searching the room with curious eyes, only to land on Marinette. Those eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, and Adrien Agreste for all the world resembled a puppy who didn’t understand what it’d done wrong. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned away from him, because it still hurt so much. He’d tried talking to her, again and again, but she couldn’t. Not when he had her back when it came to Lila, but would defend Donna with his last breath (not that she’d tried to talk sense into him, she knew he was optimistic, that she couldn’t teach him this lesson before he got hurt). Not when he’d been in love with  _ Ladybug _ and hadn’t seen her under the mask. She wondered what Chat would say if she told him, not that they’d seen each other since things blew up in her face. No, she was scared of what Chat would say to her, if he thought Donna’s interview on the Ladyblog was real. Nobody believed her the first time Ladybug called a liar out, why would they this time? So she avoided him. Took different routes, stayed in on nights he’d be patrolling…

“...Marinette?”

She bit her tongue, then turned her head. He stood beside her desk-- and yes, it was her desk, because she was the only one who sat here. That precious face of his was contorted into something even softer than usual, cautious, like he was scared she’d flee given the first sign of danger. She wasn’t sure he was wrong. “Um… so I talked to Alya… about what happened.”

Oh. Oh no.

She wouldn’t do that just because they weren’t talking, right? But, as her heart clenched painfully in her stomach where it’d dropped and stayed, she recognized that Alya probably thought she was doing the  _ right  _ thing. Helping her. Pushing her to move forward so she never stood still too long, the sort of thing Alya always did. The sort of thing Marinette usually loved her for. She realized, with a whimper that she bit down on, that Alya would.

Adrien reached up and scratched the back of his neck, glancing away in uncertainty. “She told me… that you kind of had a crush on me.” Oh no. “I just-- I’m sorry I never noticed, Marinette. And I’m sorry if… if things between Donna and I have hurt you.” It was a surprise that her heart could sink any lower in her chest, so low she swore it was probably in the depths of her legs by then, and wouldn’t have been surprised if it crashed right to the floor at her feet in a bloody heap.

But then the pain plateaued, and reached a point where her heart just couldn’t be broken any more than it already was. Because she loved him, she loved him so much. It hurt that he didn’t see her, didn’t see the real Ladybug right in front of him. Because, at the end of the day, he had no interest in her, in the Marinette her. If he wanted Ladybug, wanted to believe in what he liked to hear, just like everybody else in that classroom-- then she’d have to accept that she wasn’t enough for him. Besides, he looked so genuine, so upset for her, like he’d fix it if he could, and she knew he was trying. She loved him, oh god she loved him and if she thought about that too long, she’d start crying.

She went to smile, but Viktor’s biting voice in the back of her mind lulled it to a small nod. “Adrien, I hope… I hope you’re happy with her, for as long as this lasts.” And she meant that.

He smiled again, that bright, sunshine-boy smile that made her fall head-over-heels for him, and his eyes lit up the guilt that’d been there only moments ago and drowned it behind candy apple green. “It’ll last forever, I’m sure of it! My lady is the only one for me, mask or no mask!”

And he’d walked away. Like that was the end of it. All of her pining, all of her love, all of her handmade gifts and all of her stuttered, messy confessions led to this-- Adrien walking away. And she knew everyone else saw it, knew that, as Alya and Nino piled in and watched Adrien skipping down the steps to their desks, that they saw the look on her face, knew exactly what had just happened. So, she closed her eyes.

She was back in Puerto Rico with Viktor, lazing in the sunlight with strawberry champagne that she’d never be able to afford. She was riding top-down in the passenger seat of his Cadillac, feeling the wind in her hair and his fingers between hers. She was snuggled in his arms under the blankets with her face in his neck. She took a deep breath, and decided that place was where her energy needed to go. Her internship. Her budding relationships with her coworkers. Her “something” with Viktor. She could make it by if she just pretended that this was temporary-- because it was. One day soon, this school year would be over. She’d just transfer to a different class. Donna was easy enough to disprove, and she’d fade into the obscurity of her memories, just like every other challenge she’d faced. Hawkmoth would return (weird how that was comforting), she’d be able to look Chat Noir in the eye again. She’d make new friends, maybe she’d let the small hole Viktor had dug for himself in her heart get bigger.

[Donna stepped through the doors and took Marinette’s old seat, pinching Adrien’s ear as she passed him with a cheeky grin that he returned. Alya turned to Nino and started whispering about the odd way Marinette took the stairs that morning.] She smiled, for real, and opened her eyes as the tardy bell rang. She missed the concerned looks some of her classmates shot her, missed the way Lila seethed in her seat.

* * *

He wasn’t sure he was really looking at Viktor Beaufort until the guy spotted him out of the small crowd and approached. He stood a few inches taller, probably because he had two years on him (to be fair). His posture seemed so much straighter under his black suit, his purple eyes so much sharper with that deadset frown he was so used to on his dad. Adrien squared his shoulders and smiled. “Oh, wow! Viktor Beaufort!” The man stopped in front of him. “What are you doing here? Are you and my father working on a collaboration?” Alya and Nino stilled by his side, Alya with a raised brow and Nino with a curious smile.

Viktor Beaufort, a fashion prodigy with the skill of Audrey Bergouis herself. His name had grown over the span of three years, and his talent was what many referred to as a “budding rose” in their industry. A man with a small company but a big impact, with hands in american hollywood films and some red-carpet dresses. His father had been impressed with his work as they’d watched the Oscars together. It came more as a shock that it’d taken his father so long to extend that hand. Viktor glanced him up and down, and folded his hands behind his back so stoutly that it reminded him of Felix. That was either a good thing, or a bad thing.

“Adrien Agreste,” he extended a hand and Adrien shook it. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I was unaware you attended Dupont.”

That was odd. Adrien smiled politely and tilted his head. “Oh? I guess you’re not here about my father, then.”

“Afraid not. I’m actually here for an intern of mine. Something has come up, and an event originally set for early summer has been moved to tomorrow. She doesn’t tend to take kindly to text messages of this sort, and I’ll find more compliance handling this face-to-face.”

“Dude, what?”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Alya and Nino swung around on either arm, eyes wide as Alya readied her phone and Nino readjusted his now-tilted hat. “You have an intern that’s our age? She goes here? Is this the mysterious woman spotted with you a few weeks ago in Germany?” Viktor raised an eyebrow, and seemed to contemplate his answer. He fell silent for a moment, then shrugged.

“Yes, you’d be correct. Previously I wished to keep her out of the news, but her recent development is promising. Now is as good a time as any to introduce her to the public, I suppose.”

Alya leaned forward, practically falling over Adrien’s shoulder as she raised her phone up in giddy anticipation. Adrien laughed to himself and readjusted the misplaced strap on his shoulder, exchanging playful, knowing looks with Nino. “Would you be willing to give us a name, Mister Beaufort, sir?”

Then there was a loud clanking noise, which sounded suspiciously like somebody dropping every book in their arms to the ground. Because somebody did. All four turned to find Marinette, open-jaw, slack frame, wide eyes as she processed the image in front of her. Alya and Adrien turned around, Alya with the faintest reminiscent shadow of a smile, Adrien with an amused soft grin. Nino’s eyes lit up. “Oh, hey Dudette! You eating lunch with us today? Does this mean you and Alya are cool again, ‘cause--?”

“WHAT? ARE? YOU? DOING HERE?”

To their surprise, Viktor cleared his throat. “Something has come up. We need to be in Spain by tomorrow night. Let’s go.”

Alya’s jaw dropped first, then Nino’s, until eventually Adrien’s eyes widened and he smiled. “Marinette! You scored an internship? Why am I not surprised? I always said you had talent.”

[Usually trying to form coherent words to respond to Adrien’s very sweet, very genuine compliments would be the first thing on her mind, but a lot had changed recently, and getting tongue-tied in front of a pretty model was much lower on the priority list than yelling at the man who’d tied her wrists together both physically and metaphorically many, many times previous to the situation at hand.] “Tomorrow? Sir, I have homework and--!”

“And your professors will be made aware of this and will provide alternatives.” Adrien winced. That sounded a little too much like his dad for his liking. 

“Your parents, as well, have already been informed.”

“You can’t just--!”

“I can and I will. Come, Miss Dupain-Cheng, we have a plane to catch.” He turned around without another word, and she bent down to pick her books back up with a sigh. She bit back a yelp as Adrien and Alya bent down to help her pick her books up, her clutching the ones she’d already latched to her chest. Adrien gave her a hesitant smile, and Alya tried to make civil eye-contact. She reached for the books they’d picked up, and Adrien sighed.

“Welcome to the world of fashion!”

She winced.

“Hey, Mari, you didn’t tell any of us you got an internship?”

[Part of her, a bitter part that was still mad at Alya, still reeling from all of the hurt, wanted to bite at her, remind her what had been said. But the part of her in her mind, where she was in Viktor’s arms on a beach, sipping lemonade and sneaking Tikki cookies, reminded her to take a deep breath. So, instead,] She smiled. “Yeah, sorry, Viktor’s had me so busy I haven’t had the time to talk about it.”

“Viktor, huh?” A trace of Alya’s old mischief came back, and a pang of nostalgia for what used to be wormed its way into their chests. Because they missed it. All of them missed what used to be. “On a first name basis with your cute boss, who’s our age, nevertheless? Sounds to me like the perfect setting for a romance!” [Marinette bit down on her tongue. It figured. She probably thought that her interest in another guy would rid her of whatever mad jealousy she was convinced had driven them apart. After all, who was she to feel hurt by the small kisses Adrien and Donna shared when she had Viktor?]

Adrien smiled in support [ouch]. Nino snickered.

Marinette sighed, and walked past them. “Guess you’ll know when the tabloids do.” [She hadn’t meant it to be mean, or to be snide; it was just a fact. Alya had lost that right to hear all the details, to be the first to know that she’d been with one of the most powerful men in the fashion industry under the bluest waterfall she’d ever seen. And Adrien could have been that man if he’d just wanted to be. (And Nino probably would cover his ears and make noises with his mouth until she was done talking about her in bed with anyone at all, he definitely wouldn’t want to hear it).]

Adrien felt his stomach twist the way confrontation only could, even if it was unspoken and hanging in the air there between Marinette and her growing distance between their huddled group. Alya’s mischief died in a moment’s breath, and Nino set a comforting hand on her shoulder. Adrien watched Marinette’s back as she followed Viktor’s stiff one, the smile he’d practiced a million times in the mirror faltering.

* * *

“So, what event is it that got moved up, exactly?”

She’d just been on this damn plane earlier this morning. Not that she minded the scenic view or the amber lighting of the plane’s built-in LED system. It’s just that, despite Hawkmoth’s recent retreat into obscurity, she still worried he’d strike while she was away with Viktor somewhere. Tikki reassured her that her miraculous’s gifts would get her back to Paris in half the time it took a plane if she really concentrated, but still. She preferred to be at the ready. Viktor rolled his pen between his fingers, pressing his lips together as he concentrated on the piece in his lap. “The Gata Negra Fashion Festival in Seville, Spain. I’m a judge at their Annual Fashion Contest, an excellent scouting opportunity.”

“And you need me there because…?”

He glanced up from his black leather notebook, a gleam of something mischievous in his eyes. “A second opinion, of course.”

What? Marinette blinked. Her? A second opinion? She was just his intern, albeit one he was a little closer to than most would think. Viktor chuckled to himself. “Don’t look so surprised, Miss Dupain-Cheng. If I didn’t value your opinion, we wouldn’t be sharing a bed.”

“Why does it feel like you’re hiding something…?”

“You’re a woman of natural suspicion. Good, but unneeded in this moment. Think nothing more of it.”

He turned back to his notebook without so much as another word, marking the conversation done. Marinette sighed, then hummed to herself and reached for her bag with the intent of pulling out a textbook. She might have been missing class, but that didn’t mean she had to fall behind. After all, if her grades started falling, her parents probably wouldn’t be so accommodating about her being whisked away to fantastical places every other week. With a sigh, she blew a strand of hair out of her face. She unzipped her bag and pulled out History, first, mentally setting aside Calculus for later. She stopped to pull out a bag of chocolate chip cookies, stealthily slipping one to Tikki. From behind the clipping straps of the bag, big blue eyes blinked back at her chosen, a small smile on her face before she saw the cookie and her eyes got bigger. Marinette giggled to herself, giving Tikki a scratch or two on the head before closing her bag. She’d worry about Hawkmoth later, when he actually attacked. For right now, she’d allow herself the time to enjoy the opportunities her recent misfortune had consequently left at her doorstep.

* * *

“So, My Lady, is there a reason I haven’t seen you on patrol lately?”

Um… Donna bit her bottom lip. There was no way of knowing what Ladybug really had going on in that head of hers, not after her brave exploit on Alya’s Ladyblog. She might have been planning something, so she had to be careful she didn’t step on any toes-- including Lila’s. Adrien cocked his head to the side, big, oblivious smile all over that pretty dumb little face of his. He was handsome, and a very gentle, loving kisser, she’d give him that, but she wondered how Ladybug had survived if  _ this _ guy was Chat Noir all this time. She needed to say something convincing, anything. “I’m just… nervous, Kitty. Now that we’re together, and everybody knows who I am, I’m worried we’ll get too close in costume. What if people think I’m cheating on you with, well, you?” That was a nice, safe lie, right? Lila would probably approve. Probably.

Adrien chuckled. “My Lady, if that’s what you’re worried about, I’ll stay as  _ purr _ fessional as possible while we’re transformed. Or, I could just come clean and tell Alya--”

“No! No, don’t! It’s-it’s fine! We’ll just keep it quiet until Hawkmoth is defeated, okay?” After all, Adrien Agreste revealing that he was Chat Noir to the whole of the Ladyblog was one sure-fire way to get the real Ladybug breaking down doors and tearing everything she and Lila had worked for apart. No, the safest way to keep her secret under wraps was to keep his under wraps. She moved forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her head in his chest. Without fail, he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, pressing a small kiss to her head.

“My Lady, whatever you wish is my command.”

This was almost too easy…

* * *

Of course. Of course Hawkmoth would choose when she was in SPAIN of all places to attack. She was almost anticipating it, kept the horse miraculous as close as she usually kept Tikki, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t dreading it. She was sitting in the crowd, somewhere behind Viktor’s seat at the judge’s table, when her phone got the alert. An akuma spotted near the Seine. She bit her lip and stood up slowly, making her way through the crowd and praying Viktor wouldn’t notice her absence with all the fantastical, overly extreme designs on the backs of models catwalking down the runway. She found Viktor’s personal trailer and transformed, then took off in the direction of the Parisian lights she knew so well.

30 minutes later, she was back in Paris, swinging around on the rooftops, following the very clear carnage below. Men and women, stuck and struggling between vines that looked to have shot up out of the ground. A plant-related akuma… yawn. Hawkmoth was running out of ideas, if that wasn’t clear after the 106th time he akumatized The Pigeon. She found the akuma before long, a woman with winding green locks that circled in waves like a tornado to the Paris streets, raised 50 feet above ground by vines that carried her as she walked. Ladybug sighed.

“Fancy meeting you here, My Lady.”

A distant sound of two feet landing on brick. Chat Noir approached her from behind, and she found herself smiling. He swung his tail around in one hand, an easy, sly grin on his face and a cool posture. He looked the same as he ever did, and she was so eternally grateful for that. No questions asked yet, so maybe he knew Donna was a fake. Of course he knew, how could he not? He was her partner, after all. She gave him a very real, very warm smile. “Chat Noir, we have a lot to talk about.”

“We do?” Was he being sarcastic? The tone in his voice sounded authentically confused. Did this boy’s civilian ego have his head in the sand? Had he not even seen the Ladyblog?

She gave him an apologetic look. “We do, but that can wait until this akuma is done and over with.” He looked concerned, but gave her a small smile and nodded nevertheless.

The akuma was, ironically, a girl with a carnivorous diet, somebody who loved plants so much that she’d never dare eat them. Something had happened, from what Ladybug gathered, something involving fake meat and a concerned mother, and thus they got the first akuma in months. She called herself The Eutherian, and Chat was having a field day with it.

A thorn-filled vine struck past his head, which he dodged with no problem. “Hey, there! Wouldn’t want to hurt another mammal, would ya?” Another vine. “We’re  _ furr _ ends at the end of the day!” And another. Chat Noir laughed.

* * *

They still worked together as flawlessly as always, and his distraction worked as well as any other ever did. The rest of the formula followed-- her lucky charm appeared, was something odd (this time an actual, literal chainsaw), she figured out how to use it (not the way you’d think, actually), and she purified the akuma. With a toothy grin from Chat and a confident smirk from Ladybug, they bumped fists. “Pound it!”

“So, Bugaboo,” his eyes were wide in delight, a small mischievous smile that was so familiar on his lips. She nearly rolled her eyes at the nickname. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

She felt the tension leave her, and she let herself relax her rigid shoulders. Yep, still her same silly kitty. She smiled back. “I just wanted you to know that nothing has changed. I still want to keep our identities a secret until we defeat Hawkmoth, and I promise you, you’ll be the first to know who I--”

Chat’s smile fell. “What…?” She blinked. The tension that’d fallen from her shoulders seemed to seep right into Chat’s. His back straightened, stiff, uncomfortable. His lips twisted until there was a concerned ‘o’, and the eyes that had been so warm before seemed clouded, confused. She knew, of course, that something wasn’t right.

“I just wanted you to know that I haven’t betrayed your trust.” No, please no. Don’t tell her he didn’t believe her. She squinted at him, cautiously. “You know me, Chat. You know I’d never endanger my friends like that. Even if nobody else saw through it, I thought...”  _ You would _ . Nobody else did. Chat watched her, eyes narrowed, body stiff as he shifted from side to side, like a nervous tick on his feet. They were both silent for a moment, watching each other. She swallowed, hard. “You… you did see through it, didn’t you? Donna’s interview on the Ladyblog?”

Chat opened his mouth, then closed it, glancing around. Then he looked at her, eyes leveled, and said: “S-She… she told me she hadn’t been on patrol because she wanted to keep our relationship under wraps. She didn’t want anyone piecing together my identity.”

Oh. Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

Her heart sank. “What? Chat, don’t tell me… Oh god, does Donna know you’re Chat Noir?”

His face fell, and it was everything in her for her legs not to give out from under her. “M-My Lady, I--”

“You told her? Some random girl comes out of the woodwork claiming to be Ladybug and you  _ tell her who you are _ ,  _ just like that _ ?”

“N-No! How could you think that? She-- she saw me transform, I--!”

“She saw you? Chat are you serious? How do you know that she won’t tell anyone? She was at Dupont for a day and she had everyone thinking she’s me! How? How could you be so--?”

“I-I’m sorry, she-- she talked to me just like you! She said-- said she’d loved my civilian self, that knowing I was Chat Noir made her confess!” His eyes were wide, ears alert, skin crawling as he clawed at his tousled hair.

“You believed that again? Chat, how many times have I told you that I love somebody else! You just fell for it because she was telling you what you wanted to hear! Just like that Sentimonster!” She was going insane. She had to be. First Adrien and now…

Oh god, Adrien.

Her eyes burned, they burned so bad. She wasn’t sure if she was even seeing Chat Noir anymore. He was a blur, melding with the city lights that were starting to fade as her stomach twisted on itself. She grabbed at her hair, pulled, tugged, yanked. “How? How could she just… tie you around her little finger like that? First Adrien, now you?”

“...what?” [It was soft, she could barely hear it, couldn’t see the realization pinching him across the face like a wasp sting.]

“Adrien was bad enough! The way he looks at her! How he kisses her! All because he thinks she’s Ladybug, and now my own partner!” Hot tears felt cold against her flushed cheeks, rising in tides in the corners of her eyes before collapsing over the side and rolling down her skin. It hurt. Oh god, it hurt. The one guy she thought could never hurt her.

“My Lady…”

“If I could just throw away the other side of this mask, I would! At this point, it’d be an improvement!” Because nobody cared about Marinette. Nobody took her side, or saw her. She blended into a crowd, even when everyone knew her name. Nobody would believe she was Ladybug even if she dropped her transformation in front of them, because nobody  _ cared. Nobody except Viktor _ . Donna was doing a good job at pretending to be what everyone thought Ladybug was on the other side of the mask-- what Chat thought she was like on the other side of the mask. No, even after Hawkmoth was defeated, nobody could know, not anymore.

“You’re in Adrien’s class, aren’t you?” She stopped, for a moment, and looked at him, really looked at him, through the swelling tears in her eyes. His ears were no longer alert, now pressed to his head as his sad eyes watched her over his thin lips and furrowed brows. He stood stock-still, fists clenched at his sides, the way he looked in the middle of a fight. She blinked, and he huffed. “Ladybug, Adrien hasn’t gone official with Donna yet. The only people who know they’re together are…”

She scoffed and turned away. “Don’t go trying to figure out who I am now, Chat Noir. After we defeat Hawkmoth, I might just rethink sharing our identities.” She leaped down and into the alley below, then disappeared. [He watched her go with narrowed eyes-- and god help him, if she was who he was starting to think she was, he had a lot of explaining to do.]

* * *

Ladybug swung in through the trailer window in the nick of time, falling to her knees as her transformation gave out. Pink light engulfed her, swallowed her up in the girl nobody saw anymore. The jealous girl. The girl who sat at the back of the class. She sobbed and hung her head, because she wasn’t in Paris to akumatize anymore. Right then, she could cry. She could let it all out, she could pretend she wasn’t the Guardian, that she didn’t have millions of lives depending on her, that she wasn’t nursing a broken heart. She bent into herself and cradled herself in her arms. She felt Tikki’s small hand patting her back, but then there was a yelp, and the flickering of a switch.

“Well, I was wondering where you went. Now I suppose I have my answer.”

No, oh no. She raised her head to find Viktor sitting in a fluffy chair at the door, legs crossed with one finger raised to flick the lightswitch. He watched her from behind his now-folded hands, eyeing his quizzically. It was the typical way he looked at her, the way he’d scrutinized her when they’d first met, but somehow this felt so much worse than that. He might have seen her naked a handful of times now, but right then, she felt completely open, and bare, and it was  _ terrifying _ . Her lips parted to say something, but she could only whimper. Viktor raised an eyebrow.

“I had a feeling there was something special about you, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Now I see what it is.”

“Viktor--”

He said nothing else, just stood, and to her surprise, he parted his arms. To hold her. To welcome her back. She inhaled sharply and barely stood from the floor, and when she ran into his arms it was more like she was falling. He wrapped them around her, raising one hand to cup the back of her head, holding her to his chest. “Marinette… I was going to take this week as a chance to introduce you to the world as my apprentice. I see now that I should stick to assistant. Less media attention that way. What do you say?” She couldn’t make her lips form words. She could only sob into his chest, but she nodded against him so he could feel it. He pressed his lips to her head and kissed her, then set his chin on top of her head. “Fear for nothing, Marinette, I will be right by your side.” She choked, and he tightened his hold on her.

* * *

She didn’t return to school for a little while after that, a day or two at least. She and Viktor had returned the day after the festival, and she was thankful for that. “I intended for us to take the next 2 days to explore Spain,” he’d said as she’d hurriedly packed the last of his things in his heavy-as-heck suitcase, “but you have other responsibilities to our city, and I suppose I should prepare for my Spring Collection.” That was his way of saying he understood her, and she was happy about that. It seemed like he was the only one who did nowadays. She got a glare from Tikki as she stuck a macaroon in the purse for later, as if she’d known what she was thinking. Marinette giggled and scratched her head with the tip of her finger. Okay-- Viktor AND Tikki.

Even so, with the days off from school he’d ‘graciously’ presented her with, he wanted her in the office. Her parents understood, so long as she showed them her homework on the way out the door, and it gave her a nice break from dealing with Alya’s conflicted face and Adrien’s obliviously happy “everything is okay now” eyes. So she more than happily traipsed into the office with Tikki in the bag at her hip, a coffee in her hand (black, but sweet) and a handful of notebooks that served different purposes.

One, of course, was for her own designs. It got the least use whenever she was in the office, but she enjoyed sketching on her break.

The second one was an up-to-date schedule of anything and everything Viktor had going for months to come. She often updated it before he could even put it in his personal calendar, and she had a feeling more often than not that he banked on that.

The third was a daily-updated task list that she’d complete throughout the day. She’d go and drop off Viktor’s coffee, he’d tell her what he needed her to do, and she’d go about doing it.

So she did. She passed by the front desk where a college-age girl in blonde braided pigtails nodded at her from behind the counter, and took the elevator to the top floor-- which was only his office. Only. His office. The elevator doors parted and she waltzed in, unperturbed by the width of the room. Despite his office being roughly the size of every other floor in this building, it was full enough to not feel unnecessary… though she held the opinion, still, that the size was very, very unnecessary. The floor was a polished dark wood that shined even when her shoes scuffed it, and the wall to her left that didn’t lead down a hall to a bathroom was ceiling-to-floor filled with shelves of books. (Was Viktor a fan of Beauty and the Beast? She supposed that would explain that propensity for cold). From the ceiling hung vines that circled and reached almost every corner of the room, some corners blooming with bushes of verbena and azalea, other flowers, namely blue delphiniums, sitting pretty where vines didn’t hang. The far wall on the other end was nothing but glass, providing a vantage point of the eiffel tower most people only dreamed of seeing. To her right was, finally, Viktor’s desk, placed upon a blue rug that probably costed as much as a car. His desk was a fairly simple, half-moon shape that partly circled around his chair where it sat in the middle. Behind him were more bookcases, but those, she’d known from previous experience that she tried to not recall or she’d cringe herself into an early death, were filled with his designs. Each bookcase was dedicated to either designs he was yet to publish, designs in the process of publishing, and designs that were on the market. She wondered how he’d go about sorting the designs that no longer were in circuit?

She saw him standing at the wall-glass windows, back turned to her as he chastised somebody over the phone. He might not have even been aware she’d walked in. She scoffed, and then set his coffee at his desk on a pre-placed coaster. “I’m telling you that I can’t produce a new dress any sooner than a month from now. If you were so concerned about it fitting, you would have done what was necessary to keep Miss Valenzuela from relinquishing her role. My company will not suffer for your incompetence.” The phone call was obviously far from over, so she’d leave the coffee as her calling card and return to her shared office. She turned on her heel. “Don’t you go anywhere, Miss Dupain-Cheng. I need to have a word with you.” She squeaked and stood stock-still, slowly turning around until she could see his purple-eyed glower over his shoulder. She smiled, mayhaps nervously, and turned back around. His gaze left her, and he continued despite the raging voice on the other line. “You’ll understand that I have no intention of rushing production, sir. I favor quality, and such a time-crunch would result in a work that is well below my standard. Call me when you have an alternative.” He blatantly ignored the wailing on the other end and hit the off button.

Ah, that was right. His company was still new, still gaining traction. Something like a faulty dress or a poor stitching job was likely to reflect poorly on his still-growing name. She wouldn’t want that either, though she imagined she would have been nicer about it…

Viktor turned around, slipping his cell nonchalantly into his suit coat, long legs chafing as he approached her, steps in a straight line with a hand in his pocket. She swallowed hard, glancing around nervously because the tone he’d used to address her had been the polar opposite of welcoming. It had been a long time since she’d been in the office with him, a month at least. She’d forgotten how to deal with his all-work no-play personality when they weren’t behind private doors. “Y-You wanted t-to speak to me?”

“I said I wanted to have a  _ word _ with you, Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

Yes, she knew what that meant. Anybody who’d had a parent or teacher in their entire life knew what that phrase meant. It meant trouble. It meant scolding. It meant she’d done something wrong. She bashfully eyed the coffee she’d set on his desk, then looked back at him. His eyes followed hers, then he sighed and reached over to take the cup.

To her surprise, he dropped it in the bin next to his desk.

Some strangled noise came out of her lips, and she nearly had the thought to yell at him. He raised his hand to her and pulled her closer by the shoulder, then pressed her into the edge of his desk where the coffee had been, pushed for closer to it until she had to struggle to stay upright and not fall onto it. “S-Sir--!”

“So, Miss Dupain-Cheng…” She gulped. That was the bedroom voice. Hesitantly, she fought herself until her eyes met his lidded ones, and noticed how thick they were looking right then with something she’d seen in him well over a handful of times. He locked her in with one hand on the desk beside her, then raised it and took a strand of her hair between his fingers. Down, just like he liked it. And jeez, did it look like he liked it. He held the strand to his lips, then pressed a kiss to what didn’t fall between his fingers. He grew closer, and she knew better than to move away. His nose pressed to hers, eyes locked as his hot breath hit her lips and seeped into her mouth as she parted them. The hand he’d propped up against the desk reached for something, and then he pulled back and dangled it in front of her face. She blinked a few times, then tried to keep the embarrassed squeal that ripped through her throat at the sight of what was very clearly a long, soft, strip of satin. Viktor smirked at her from under his hungry eyes. “What word do you have in mind…?”

* * *

That jerk. That absolute, hot-and-cold, hard-to-read buttface! Marinette grinded her teeth and thanked her lucky stars that there was an elevator she could take to her shared office, because that crevice between her legs was so sore that it hurt to walk. She’d taken such care to do her hair that morning, since he loved it when she styled it in waves, but he’d been so (her face turned red at the memory) rough with her, and her quick trip to the sink left her front strands straight and drenched in water, as though she’d purposely straightened only the front parts. It looked weird. She looked weird, and it was all his fault. Her eyebrow twitched. In all the time that she’d been his intern, he’d never once propositioned her like that in the office. But of course, that man was full of surprises. She rubbed contemplatively at her red wrists… more than one kind of surprise.  _ I’m gonna string him up to the Champs Elysees with my yoyo and watch him squirm as the cars pass under him. _

With a sigh, she brushed open the door to her office, greeted immediately by three different hands waving at her from their (much smaller) desks. “Morning, Marinette!” A red-head in a white button up and pencil skirt didn’t look up from her work as she greeted her. “The boss kept you longer than usual today. Everything okay?”

“Yeah he just, uh… gave me a lecture.” It was a partial truth, wasn’t it?

“What did you do? It must’a been bad if he scolded his favorite.” A boy, a little older than her, grinned cheekily, white teeth sparkling against his dark skin. “So what was it? Cold coffee? Forget to put something in his calendar?”

“Nah, nah, just wasn’t working… fast enough, I guess.” Chat Noir would have had a field day with the innuendo she was dropping.

“Well, take a seat and help us finalize these designs.” The third hand, a guy her age with hair about as dark as hers, gestured to the empty seat that’d been reserved for her. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.” He said. Sarcastically. Biting back the comment that it would physically hurt to sit down right then, she pushed forward and plopped down at her desk with what she hoped was a silent hiss. Jolie, Dorian, and Cyril: her fellow interns. They were all pretty friendly, but not enough that she’d call them friends. Maybe. She wasn’t sure. Viktor encouraged her to become friendlier with them, but he also told her to keep an eye on her designs-- he didn’t trust anybody in their industry to not ‘uproot talent’ and ‘use it for their own gain’. She doubted any of the broke, stressed interns that shared her office had any intentions like-so. Viktor was just protective. She smiled; she knew that. “How far in are we?”

“Less than a third of the way through. He’s got us clearing extra designs from other departments that are below us right now ‘cause the wackjobs in some other department went and leaked some stuff to some up-and-coming clothing app. Have to cover for their mistakes until management does an investigation.” Dyril snorted, nose wriggling in irritation. Dorian clapped him on the back.

“Don’t worry, man, at the end o’ the week, we’ll have one long night to unwind.”

“Oh,” Jolie’s wide amber eyes peeked up from her work, suddenly, and she turned around in her seat so fast that her fiery ponytail whipped behind her beaming head. “I forgot to mention it to you because you’re usually working out of the office. The three of us are doing karaoke Friday night after work. You coming?”

Huh, well, she hadn’t had anything planned for Friday night, except maybe catch up on some homework and beat some fighting game characters senseless. Maybe she should? She’d made a promise to herself, after all, that she would give these work relationships of hers a chance. This job was her future-- Viktor and these people here might have been her future. It made sense to invest some time in them, see where it went. Marinette smiled. “Yeah, I’d love to!”

* * *

Karaoke had been, hands down, the most fun she’d had in… okay, well, the most fun she’d had  _ without Viktor _ in months. Cyril was usually such a wise-cracking jerk in the office, so much so that it was nearly shock-inducing when he stood in front of a crowded room and mumbled his way through a 3-minute Aerosmith song. Jolie had teased him mercilessly, and offered him a drink when he swatted at her prying hands and hugs with a scowl. Dorian had been a little more confident-- though he was into country and folk music? Not what she would have expected, but she guessed not every smiling, easy-going dude had the same tastes as Nino. Jolie and herself had gotten up to do a Jagged Stone piece together, and Jolie had absolutely  _ raved _ when she connected the dots and realized their Marinette was the same one who designed the cover for that one Jagged Stone album. She’d had fun, and a lot to drink, and she hoped she’d hid it well from her parents when Dorian dropped her off at home. There couldn’t have been a visible difference between her real tripping and her drunk tripping, right? Right.

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting upon her return to class, but it definitely wasn’t what she walked in on. Donna, up and gone from their class, Lila’s fake empathy seeping into every smile she made as she comforted a seething Alya. Adrien was nowhere to be found, but Alya and Nino were right in their usual seats, leaning into Lila’s every word. “I’m sure she was just lonely, Alya! I’m just so mad that we gave her a platform on your blog!”

Alya set an understanding hand on Lila’s shoulder. “It’s no biggie, girl, she’ll get what’s comin’ to her.” Then the door closed behind Marinette, and Alya’s eyes met hers. To her surprise, there was pain there instead of the usual conflict, and she couldn’t help but get her hopes up. She went to ignore the stare and started her trek up the stairs, but Alya’s voice caught her first. “Mari-- hold up. Can I talk to you for a sec?”

She said nothing, just glanced away and nodded. She knew it wasn’t a good idea, that she’d probably walk away from this a little sadder than she usually was when she had the pleasure of being in class, but Alya surprised her by scuttling down the steps and throwing her arms around her. Marinette startled, back straightening as Alya pulled her into her chest and squeezed. “Marinette, girl, I’m so sorry. You were right all along. Donna wasn’t Ladybug!” What? Marinette blinked, eyeing Lila over Alya’s shoulder. The girl looked annoyed, but was acting aloof, as though she wasn’t listening in on every word Alya and her exchanged. “She totally fooled Lila and I, and my post on the Ladyblog just made it so much worse. Could you ever forgive me for yelling at you like that?”

Alya pulled away, but not far, kept her hands on Marinette’s shoulders and frowned at her, but that was only a secondary priority to process. She blinked slowly, like she’d wake up and Alya would be mad at her again, but she stayed there with her hands on her shoulders, glossy eyes, heavy heart and all. “I… um… sure. But, Alya? Can I ask you what happened?”

“Oh, while you were away there was an akuma! Ladybug stopped by Lila’s place to make sure she was all right, and when Lila called her Donna…”

“Let’s just say,” Lila brought up one perfectly manicured hand, looking disinterestedly at it. “Ladybug made it very clear that Donna was an imposter. It hurt to hear, but she was right. There’s no way Donna was my bestie, not with the way she just let Alya put her secret identity all over the Ladyblog.”

That… was a lot of information at once. Marinette raised an eyebrow. Lila raised one right back-- a dare. So Marinette just gave her a small smile,  _ thank you _ . Lila rolled her eyes.  _ I didn’t do it for you _ . “Oh, which reminds me!” Alya elbowed her in the arm, cheshire grin uncomfortably like Chat Noir’s as she leaned closer. “Adrien Agreste is a free man again! Though I’m not sure anyone here stands much chance against Ladybug herself.” Marinette went to smile, but Viktor’s scolding face flashed in her mind’s eye.

“Oh…” Alya raised an eyebrow at her response, a concerned gleam in her eye, an unspoken question-- was she okay? Marinette shrugged. “If it’s Ladybug he wants, all I can do is wait till he finds her on his own.” The image of him watching that imposter lovingly, the tear in her chest when she’d locked her arms around his neck and they’d kissed so  _ passionately _ , so  _ in love _ , was seared into her mind. All for Ladybug, all for a woman only one man truly knew-- and even Chat Noir was up in the air right now. She grinded her teeth. She knew she went out of her way to cover her identity, but the very fact that Chat Noir AND Adrien fell into Donna’s trap, hook line and sinker, told her that they’d never really considered the Marinette side of her as a romantic interest. If they didn’t think that the Marinette side of her was as amazing, as charming, as  _ miraculous _ as her Ladybug side, then she could live with being their friend. Maybe.

She went to go sit in the back, but Alya tugged at her sleeve and nodded (uncharacteristically) shyly to her old seat. Marinette felt anxiety swell in her heart at the prospect, but gave Alya a small, genuine smile and claimed her old place in the second row. Nino tipped his hat at her in welcome, and Lila rolled her eyes and settled into her own place. Adrien came strolling into the room a few minutes later, looking just as bright as he usually did, maybe a little brighter. She felt almost visibly confused. It was like his hair was a halo as he set his back on his side of the desk. He glanced up and met her eyes, and (despite herself) she shrunk under his gaze. He gave her a soft, warm smile, the way he’d looked at Donna all that time. [The way he’d always looked at her long before Donna ever came along, not that she knew that]. Lila seemed to bristle in her seat, while Alya noticed the look on his face and grinned slyly. She turned to Nino and whispered something, and he laughed. Adrien’s eyes didn’t leave hers, until eventually she was feeling too hot, and her chest felt too tight-- until she turned away first. Why, now that she knew how he felt, did he still have that effect on her?

[Adrien chuckled to himself, because he knew now, and there was no way he’d mess up on that monumental scale again.]

* * *

It was very much to her surprise that Viktor was waiting for her right outside the school, keys swinging around his pointed finger as he leaned cooly against the passenger seat door. Alya ‘oo’ed and ‘aww’ed and gripped her arm and squealed, and Adrien seemed to freeze where he stood at Nino’s other side. Marinette’s eyes met Viktor’s, and he gave her a small, cocky grin as he caught the swinging keys in his palm. “V-Viktor!”

“Miss Dupain-Cheng…”

Alya giggled like an evil schoolgirl and leaned in and whispered so only she could hear (though she was sure Adrien and Nino could, too): “Is tall dark and handsome here to whisk you away on another getaway trip? I think I see a little box in those pockets of his…”

She hissed back. “Alya!”

Alya grinned conspirationaly. “What? With his money? Girl, please, you’d be wed by summertime.”

Nino raised an eyebrow, raising the hem of his hat as his eyes scanned Adrien’s face from wide-eyed top to thin-lipped bottom. “Bro, you good? You look a little tense, there.”

Adrien’s eye twitched. “Y-Yeah, I’m just fine…”

“Well?” Viktor called from his perch by the car. “Are you going to let me reward all of your  _ hard work _ , my dear assistant?” Oh, oh no! Why was he using that voice here? That was his bedroom voice! Why? Oh god, why?

Alya squealed. Nino winced and took a step away from Adrien, who would have been turning red and blowing steam out of his ears, had he been in a cartoon. ”Bro, you’re uh, lookin’ a little hot, and I don’t mean in your usual model way.” Adrien twitched, much more visibly, fingers balling into fists at his sides before releasing, thinned lips turning to a petulant scowl.

“I’m--I’m  _ fine _ .”

Marinette sighed and pulled away from her friends, approaching Viktor’s car (and smoking hot body) with all the confidence of a baby bird. Viktor eyed her, and she could tell he was getting some sick sense of enjoyment out of this. “Why do you have to talk to me like that?”

“Oh please, Miss Dupain-Cheng, I’ve done much worse to you with these lips.”

“WHAT?!”

She knew for a fact that was Alya, but somebody else’s voice had muddled in, too-- Adrien’s? She squeaked and whipped open the car door, throwing her whole body awkwardly into the backseat, legs sticking out a quarter of the way before she shuffled the rest in. She could still hear Alya’s voice as Viktor shut the door behind her. “GIRL! YOU HAVE SOME ‘SPLAININ’ TO DO!”

She vaguely heard her friends still as Viktor walked around and opened the driver side door.

“W-Wait! Hey wait a second!” Adrien’s voice that time, for sure, harmonizing with Nino’s high-pitched snorting laughter and Alya’s demonic screeching.

Viktor shut the door behind him and dulled out the last of it, plugging the keys into the ignition before the Cadillac began with a purr and started them off. They were a few minutes into the ride before Viktor sighed. “You know, the plan was for you to sit in the passenger seat, unless you  _ like _ being chauffeured by the man who signs your paychecks.”

Marinette huffed into the leather seats, dug her face in and mumbled “You don’t pay me.”

Viktor snorted. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time I take you shopping.”

Marinette moaned and turned her head in the seat, cheek pressed to leather like a squishy ball, specifically to glare at him in the rearview mirror. He eyed her right back, mirth in those sharp eyes of his.

* * *

That didn’t make sense, none of it made sense. Marinette was so, so not the type of girl to… do those things to make her way to the top. She was not the type to forgo hard work and ambition and take the easy way-- and Ladybug wasn’t the type, either! Plagg watched from his minifridge oasis, small hands full of camembert as Adrien paced back and forth. “You know, none of this would have ever happened if you’d just listened to me about that imposter!”

“Plagg, you’re not helping! What if he’s forcing her? What if he’s been… been  _ hurting _ Marinette and I just-- I just didn’t notice? Plagg, how could I not have noticed?”

Plagg stuffed the camembert in his mouth and chewed. “Well, ya know… maybe he was just the only person who believed her. In my years of experience with humans, that’s a good a way as any to--”

“Stop. Please, stop.” Adrien plopped down on his bed, dug his fingers into his hair and rested his elbows on his knees. He groaned. “He’s probably got his hands on her right now! Holding her, kissing her!... Other things! All while I’ve been buying into a huge lie!” He winced at the pain that the idea caused him, somebody--anybody-- else, seeing Marinette-- Ladybug-- in a way he never had. That nobody else had. The way he’d sometimes let himself think about, usually when imagining a future with Ladybug. It always left him reeling, and red, and Plagg always teased him when that happened, like he knew exactly what he’d been thinking. But now? Now all he could see were that jerk’s hands on her, his lips on her, whatever horrible image his mind could come up with. He opened his mouth, and found his voice cracking in uncertainty. “I… I don’t know what to do, Plagg. I messed up. I messed up big time and-- and now I might have lost her!”

Things fell silent, and Adrien dared to think that Plagg had some sense of decency and stopped poking the bear.

The very emotional, heartbroken bear.

There was a sigh, and he could feel Plagg floating closer. “Look kid, Tikki is usually the one with good advice. She knows how to handle all of these… emotions and stuff better than I do, but if there’s one thing I can tell you I know, it’s destruction. And you haven’t destroyed your chance with her, yet.” Adrien lifted his glassy eyes and found Plagg floating a few inches above him, a frown marring his usually jovial face. “I see the way she still looks at you. Regardless of what that Vic guy is or isn’t doing to her, she’s head over heels for you, kid. Ladybugs and their cats always find their way back to each other. Your Ladybug is a little lost right now, you just need to light her way home.”

That… helped. Adrien smiled, allowing the tears that had been building unshed in his eyes to pour over the side. He stood and wiped at his eyes. “Right… I think I know what I need to do, then. Plagg, claws out!”

* * *

To her surprise, Viktor took her out to a nice dinner. She asked the occasion, and he told her it was merely the least he could do for the woman who kept Paris whole. He said nothing else, but she knew what he meant. She was Ladybug, and like any other guy her age in Paris, he was somewhat smitten. The dinner was great! Lots of italian dishes, so many choices of desserts, even a glass of wine. Yeah, she was lucky. So, so lucky.

He’d given her a ride home, once again to her surprise, and dropped her off. She’d sideyed the bakery door then glanced at him, asking if he wanted to come in. They’d have to be quiet, which she was notoriously bad at, but she had some materials she could use for a makeshift… muzzle, if need be. He’d smiled at her, and taken her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her fingers, then said: “Miss Dupain-Cheng, I need you to know that your position as my apprentice is not a reflection of my interest in you as a woman, but a reflection of my interest in your talent. Should we stop sharing a bed, you must understand that it would not impact your position in my company-- or your secret. But also know that, should we continue, I intend to court you properly in the hopes that you’d one day be my wife. I’m not a man who has fun, Marinette, remember that.”

Her face had turned about as red as her suit normally did, and still she’d somehow found her way back into the safety of her home. Sure, maybe she’d fumbled with the keys a bit, but who hadn’t when a multimillionaire wanted to not only court them, but marry them? She was fine. Everything was fine.

Her parents were asleep by the time she headed upstairs, so she went straight for her bed, laid down face-first, and screamed into her pillow in a very different way than she’d been anticipating earlier that night. She was unbelievably happy, of course, but she was also  _ terrified _ and what was she supposed to do with that out-of-nowhere proposition? Okay, maybe it wasn’t so out-of-nowhere, but it still felt really sudden. Oh god, oh geez, oh no…

She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that her heart wasn’t quite ready for Viktor to begin digging. The hole from before that spanned every corner of her heart had yet to be filled in, and there really wasn’t anywhere for him to dig just yet.

Big green eyes, two different pairs, flashed across her mind. She winced, and tried to hold back the onslaught of tears because  _ it just wasn’t fair _ . She had a man who cared about her, who had done amazing, amazing things just to get her to smile, and still she wished that those sharp purple eyes were green, and soft. She wished he’d make puns, or be a goofball, and god help her, at some point she’d nearly screamed  _ Chat’s _ name while they were having sex! Chat! Who she swore up and down she had no romantic attachment to. Ugh, could she really blame him for believing Donna’s lie so easily, then? Because, clearly, there were some things her Adrien-raddled mind wouldn’t let her think about. Maybe Chat knew, and she’d yelled at him for falling simply for what he’d suspected to be the case all along. Maybe she should have been more mad at Donna for playing with the hearts of the two boys who meant more than anything in the world to her. Maybe, if he didn’t already hate her, she’d let him see who she was once they defeated Hawkmoth.

“Chat still should have been more careful,” she mumbled to TIkki in particular. “Now that random girl knows who he is. What if she gets akumatized?”

“Well, I heard Alya’s going to make a video discrediting her, so at the very least nobody’s gonna believe her when she tells people who I am.” Marinette squealed and shot up, turning upwards to find Chat Noir hanging loosely outside her hatch door. He smiled at her, and there was something uncharacteristically soft in his eyes. “Hey, Princess.”

* * *

Marinette sighed and returned with her plate of cookies, handing one off to Chat before setting the plate on her desk, far enough away that Chat wouldn’t see Tikki sneaking one. “Chat Noir… what brings you here?”

He gratefully took the cookie between his clawed fingers and ate it in one bite, a small satisfied grin on his face. “I’m curious, Princess…”

“Curiosity killed the cat, ya know.”

He eyed the strap on her arm that slipped, then hurriedly turned to look at literally anything else.  _ Satisfaction brought it back _ .

“That man you’ve been seeing… Viktor Beaufort.”

“How did you know I was seeing him?”

Ah, confirmation. He winced. “I um, just heard it somewhere… didn’t know if it was true.” Marinette raised an eyebrow, then ran her hand over her arm, embarrassed. He could tell. On both Ladybug and Marinette, he knew that little scrunch of her nose. He frowned. “So, is it serious, then?”

“Uh, I had no idea, until tonight.”

“Tonight?” His ears went flat, and his tail curled. “W-What happened tonight?”

Marinette sighed, and looked away from him, like she was ashamed and  _ god he wanted to kill this man!  _ “He… he gave me an out. Told me that it wouldn’t hurt my career if I decided to stop seeing him, but he also told me, I guess, that he’s… that he wants to date me, you know? Date me for real, marry me someday.” Chat clenched his jaw.

“...and?”

“And I don’t think I can do that.” Marinette covered her face with her hands and hung her head. Her shoulders began shaking, and he didn’t think she was laughing. He sucked in a breath, frowning as he moved to sit closer to her. She didn’t seem to notice, fingernails digging into the skin of her forehead as she buried her face as far into her palms as possible. “I’m-- I’m still in love with this-- this other boy, and I… What am I supposed to do if he can’t fall in love with the me he knows?” He tilted his head, frowning as she began trembling in her curled state. He set a hand on her shoulder, and nearly started crying too when he felt her shake. “He doesn’t feel that way about me! Said it so himself! If I’m-- if I’m so easy for him to just write off, then I need to move on! But I can’t!”

His heart shattered a little more after every word. He’d done this to her. He’d hurt her, made her think he thought any less of Marinette when, the truth was… the truth was...

He reached out and pulled her into his chest, tail wrapping around her as if it was another limb that could keep her close. He just wanted her close. “I’m so sorry, My Lady!” She stilled in his arms, and he held her closer. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Her breathing was still rough, still came out in breathy patches, but the sobbing had stilled. “Ch-Chat?”

“I never meant to hurt you. I was just-- you were right, I was so blind because she was telling me exactly what I wanted to hear. That day you ran out of the room crying I-- My Lady you have to believe me, I wasn’t thinking straight. I should have known!” Her breath hitched, and he tried to control himself, because he couldn’t start crying, too. He had too much to tell her. “Marinette, just looking at you made me feel guilty. I knew. I knew that I felt something there I just… I was so in love with Ladybug, I-I felt like I was betraying her. But you… something always pulled me to you, and I didn’t know what it was, but I get it now.” Slowly, unsurely, she pulled away from him, and all at once he knew those bluebell eyes were the same he’d fallen in love with. She blinked at him, owlishly, and he breathed in. “Plagg, claws in.”

Adrien Agreste sat there on Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s bed, on his knees, eyes pleading, and she stared up at him, jaw parted, eyes wide, sob building in her throat.

“A-Adrien…”

“I’m right here, Princess. I’m never, ever leaving you again.”

Her eyes welled with more tears, and she tried to wipe at them violently. He leaned forward and cupped her jaw in his hands, thumbs brushing away the tears on her cheeks, eyes falling to her lips as she took him in and drank the sight on him, pleading with her. “Adrien…”

“It was the magic, Marinette.” They turned to see Tikki, paws full of cookie, but mouth empty as she watched them. “Adrien couldn’t recognize you because of our magic. He recognized you the best way he possibly could; he fell in love with you all over again.”

“Oh believe me,” Plagg groaned. “I can attest to that.” His voice became much higher pitched, as if impersonating Adrien… terribly. “Marinette is so amazing! Marinette is so awesome! Guess what Marinette did today!” He leveled Adrien with a glare that Tikki chastised out of the corner of her mouth. Adrien’s cheeks lit up. “On and on! Anytime you so much as  _ smiled _ at the kid. You should hear what he had to say after the Darkblade incident!”

“O-Okay Plagg, thanks! I-I think she gets it…” With a giggle, Tikki pulled Plagg off to a little cubby somewhere Adrien and Marinette could have their privacy.

He glanced back down to find her wide blue eyes staring back at him, cheeks a stunning shade of red. Honestly, he thought as he smiled down at her and wiped away a stray tear with his thumb, how could he have ever thought she was anyone else? She blinked at him slowly as he skimmed her cheek, eyes searching his eyes for something. Deceit, maybe, but he knew she wouldn’t find any. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

“Adrien… I…”

“Marinette,” he whispered her name, and it set her heart off in gusts of fire, the small smile on his face, the adoration she always heard so clearly in Chat Noir’s voice, it was all there. His eyes flickered from her eyes to her lips, then settled back on the latter. “Please don’t marry that guy.”

Her eyes widened, and before she knew it she was giggling. So much. So much her sides hurt. Any tension that had been in the room filtered out, because this boy was her pouty little kitty, for sure. She looked up at him, and found to her sheer delight that he was, in fact, pouting. “M-Marinette, I’m serious!” That made her laugh harder. She was sure she heard him groan. “Marinette, please! I’ll do anything!”

“A-Adrien!” She tried to get her breathing back to normal, which meant avoiding the big-pupiled sad kitty eyes he was shooting her. “I hardly thought about  _ dating _ the guy before tonight!” She took a few breaths in, then out, and eventually her sides stopped hurting, and she could look at him again. He was watching her, an unamused expression on that angelic face of his, but she could somehow see Chat Noir’s tail whipping in angry kitty circles behind him. “Adrien… he made me feel like I wasn’t alone. He reminded me what it was like to have fun, and I… I kind of liked him for it.” Something in his eyes flashed, and she could tell it was hurt. She knew that look well. “He spoiled me rotten, and yeah, it was great. He made me feel appreciated, like I wasn’t just some jealous girl with an unrequited crush.”

“Marin--”

“I know. My point is, all of that was great, but even in my most intimate moments with him, I…” should she say that? Was that oversharing? She glanced away and fiddled with her fingers. “Adrien, I wished it was you. Every kiss, every glass of champagne…” she bit her lip “... every time I was  _ with _ him… I wished it was you.” Was that too much? Oh, god, that might have been too much. She chanced a look his way and found that he was staring at her with that same hurt look. She wondered if it would have been better if she hadn’t said anything at all. He raised one hand and set it against her cheek, and she tried not to look at him.

“Marinette… it can be me. I will do all of that and more. Whatever you want. Just please, please don’t turn me away.”

She laughed again, but got a warning look, so she smiled instead and placed her hand over his. “Adrien… Kitty. It doesn’t have to be you. I don’t need any of that, I just need you.”

“You have me.” He leaned forward and she swallowed hard, squeezing her eyes shut as tightly as possible. She felt him move forward, then felt his breath against her lips, so close, but never touching. “My Lady?”

“Hmm?” That was more high-pitched than she meant for it to be.

There was silence, then she felt rather than heard him chuckle. His thumb brushed her lips, pulling them until they were no longer thin in preparation. “I can’t kiss you if you don’t let me have your lips.”

She shivered and pursed them, nervously. It wasn’t her first kiss anymore, but by god this was Adrien-- and  _ Chat _ \-- and she could feel his warm fingers brushing her throat from where he cradled her jaw. He chuckled again, but he leaned forward. Their lips brushed, only lightly, slightly, like a hand testing the feel of fabric. Just that little touch had her breath hitch and her lips relax. He kissed her again, taking her bottom lip between his two. Another shiver ran down her spine, but her muscles relaxed everywhere it jolted her. She leaned forward, took the collar of his overshirt in her hands and pulled him closer, and that still wasn’t enough. She set her hands at his shoulders and slid them up and up until there was no shoulder left, and her arms could wrap around his neck. One of his hands trailed down her skin, weaving its way down her side until it came to rest at her hip. He leaned forward to get a better angle, and she tilted her head up to give it to him.

He hummed as her hair reached up and grasped at his hair, caressing his scalp as he inched forward, and forward, until eventually she was leaning back, and he was leaning over her. His kiss turned from gentle to teasing, pulling away only a few centimeters so she’d have to chase him. He let go and allowed some of his body weight to lean over her, tracing his hand up and down her side as his kisses grew lighter and lighter. Her arms wrapped fully around his neck, hands latching to his shoulders as they kissed. Experimentally, he bit her lip. To his surprise, that lit a fire in his stomach. He kissed her harder, pressing his whole body into hers. Pleasure shocked his nerves up and down, and he gasped as she did. “A-Adrien…” her voice was breathless, and he swallowed hard.

His hand at her waist trailed down so he could grab her at the hip, and he rolled his hips against hers again. He grunted, and she squirmed beneath him. “Let me show you what a  _ real _ knight can do, Princess.” After all, he had more than a library’s worth of things he’d thought about doing with Marinette (and no, that wasn’t counting Ladybug… maybe that should have been his clue, but he’d written it off as “friends can think their friends are insanely attractive). Especially when another man had her under him. No, once he was done she wouldn’t remember her own name, let alone that guy’s. Marinette’s messy, splayed hair and bright red blush were more than enough consent for him. He leaned down and captured her lips in another kiss, grabbing her hips with both his hands as he rolled his hips against hers. She gasped and burrowed her cheek into the mattress, making small, breathless noises as he dug his nose into the crook of her neck and left open-mouthed kisses there. His hands slid from her hips to her thighs, and he pulled them further apart as he brushed himself against her. She squeaked, raising her hips to meet his. He grunted and held his breath, but didn’t dare stop.

“Marinette…”

She turned her head and captured his lips in another desperate kiss, locking her ankles around his lower back, pressing herself up and against him. She opened her mouth and he happily obliged, tongue sliding past her lips until it reached her tongue and stroked. She hummed as he tilted his head to get better access, then gasped as she felt his hand (when had it gotten there?) stroke her breast through her bra. “A-Adrien… a-ah~!”

His thumb ran tantalizing strokes back and forth over her nipple, brushing the skin her underwear didn’t hide, but only teasing her. She whined as he ran the edge of his thumb under the very edge of her bra, but didn’t take her completely. Viktor had been quick to do everything, wasn’t much for teasing, but she supposed her kitty definitely would have been. Maybe in a clearer state of mind, she could have seen that coming from a mile away. He smiled against her lips as she whimpered, palming her through the cup but not removing it. “I thought you’d done this before, Princess…”

“I-I h-have, I just…” She tried to control her breathing as he teasingly slipped a finger past her cup, hooking around its edge as he moved, but careful not to touch what she really, really,  _ really _ wanted him to. “Mm, A-Adrien-- ha...ah…”

“What is it, Princess? You’ve gotta tell me.” He might not have been behind the mask, but good god was his Chat showing. How was their resident sunshine boy so... so…  _ lustful _ ?  _ Dominant _ ? His thumb slid up until it latched around the strap of her bra, tugging at it until it feel down her shoulder. She whimpered and reached up to grab him by the hair, tugging him down into another searing kiss as he finally pressed her bra down. He palmed her bare skin, and she moaned as he brushed his thumb back and forth across her nipple.

“Adrien!”

He leaned up and pressed a featherlight kiss to her ear, but she could feel his cheshire grin nonetheless as he whispered: “Say my name, Princess, say it.”

She cried out as he pinched her between two fingers, rolling her in circles as he nipped at her ear lobe. She bucked against him, and found that he met her with a more-than-willing thrust. She cried out again, hands grasping at the hoops of his jeans at his hips, trying to bring him down to meet her again. He grunted and leaned up, grabbing her shirt at the bottom and tugging it over her head as she moved her arms to make it easier on him. From there he made quick work of her bra (“I  _ am _ a model, My Lady…”). From there, he paused, and fell silent, and he stared at her. She blinked up at him, watching the way his lust-filled eyes reflected the tender love her partner’s had always held. Somewhere, beyond wondering how it took her so long to see that it was him, she wondered what he was staring at. That, of course, was when she realized that she was completely topless in front of him for the first time. In front of Adrien. Who a few months ago gave her heart attacks just looking at her too long, who made her feel naked completely clothed. Squeaking, she covered herself with her arms, cheeks flushing red against the pink of her sheets.

Adrien looked bewildered for a moment, then fondly amused. He laughed and shook his head, smile looking much more  _ him _ than  _ Chat Noir _ . “Marinette, I can’t rock your world if you’re covering the most important places…”

Her lips quivered, and she glanced away with a nervous laugh. “Hah hah! Yeah, um, do you think we could… turn out a light? Maybe?”

The furrow in his brow came back, but the fondness was still very there, very tangibly real. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her jaw so she turned her head. He smiled at her, the way she’d seen him look at Donna just a few days ago. The way he’d always looked at her as Chat. The way she was beginning to realize he’d always looked at her. “Marinette… you don’t have to hide from me. I’m your partner, remember?” He cupped her cheek again, stroking her cheek with his thumb in slow, intentional patterns. “I love you, My Lady. I will always love you. No matter what.”

Her eyes welled with tears again, and she leaned her head into his hand, smiling at how the warmth enveloped her. “My Prince…” She moved to let her arms fall to her sides, then changed her mind and wrapped them around his neck once more. “I love you, too.”

He leaned down, pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, then set his forehead against hers so that their noses brushed. He closed his eyes and smiled, happy to be there, with her in his arms. “Let me prove how much I love you, My Lady.” His nose scrunched, and he glared at nothing in particular. “...Or at least let me prove that I love you more than  _ him _ .” She laughed.

“Oh, Kitty. Would you believe that after our little fight a few days ago, you nearly had me screaming  _ your _ name?”

He blinked, cheeks turning red. “W-What?”

“Yep,” she nodded, almost like she was proud of it. “Happened more than once, actually. I had to stop letting him--” she paused, eyes wide, watching the incredulous, jealous look on his face. “...Do something specific with his mouth notthatyoudon’talreadyknowwhatImean because he looked a little too… Chat Noir?”

“........” He stared down at her, looking all the world like he was stuck between trying to kill the man she called her boss, and reveling that the poor guy could never go down on her without her wanting to scream  _ his _ name instead. A moment passed before he made a decision, lips curling up in a way that was so very mischievous that she almost felt worried.

“K...Kitty?”

“Well, Princess, how would you like to feel what it’s really like when the cat gets the cream?”

“W-W-Wait!” She choked back a yelp as his palm reached down and stroked her through her pants. “Ah!” Back and forth, he palmed her and rubbed, slowly but purposely rubbing her up and down. Her breathing became labored before she could even protest. She couldn’t help it, she started pressing herself up against him, trying to get him closer and closer. He hummed and leaned back down to nip at her chest, leaving love marks anywhere she whimpered. She hardly noticed as he reached up with his free hand and unbuttoned her jeans, then pulled them down, didn’t notice until that magic hand of his was pressed against her with only her underwear as a barrier. The motion was so much more potent without the added layer, and her back arched. “Adrien…”

He stroked her again, his free hand undoing the buttons on his pants as he curled his fingers against her center, using his knuckles to press into her. “That’s not to name you wanted to say earlier, My lady~”

He inched her underwear out of the way, then played with her center with the tips of his fingers. She arched her back again, head tilting back with the sheer electric touch. “Ch-Chat!” Back and forth, his fingers teased her along her folds, stroking her as she squirmed and twisted and fell apart in the palm of his hand. “Chat! A-Ah!” He grinned, then leaned down until she couldn’t see him hovering over her anymore. Anticipation filled her stomach with butterflies as she glanced down, and what she found was more alluring than any image she’d seen before.

Adrien, kneeled between her spread legs with his green eyes peeking out at her from beyond her flat stomach, hands clutching her thighs at the top to keep them apart as he prepared to work. Those same eyes, the sweet gentle ones she knew so well, were so filled with lust and need that it left her breathless. His hair was mussed from her tugging, wild and unruly as it was when he was Chat Noir, and she could see the cheeky grin on his face as he leaned closer to her sweet spot. “Is this what you always envisioned… My Lady?”

She could only wordlessly nod as he turned his head and kissed her inner thigh, canine peeking out from his top lip as he nibbled at the sensitive skin. She gasped and threw her head back, raising the front of her wrist to cover her lips as she felt him rid her of her panties.

The next part was mostly a blur. His hot mouth on her most sensitive part, his tongue gliding up and down the way his fingers had been so good at doing, his thumb rubbing her at the top as he pressed his tongue  _ into _ her. She was sure she was screaming. It was a surprise her parents hadn’t heard her already. She couldn’t keep still, kept tossing and turning, pushing herself against him until he set his hands at her hips to keep her still. He gave her a kiss that left his tongue brushing against her bud, and she came undone. She threw her head back and cried, screamed his name as the tears fell down her cheeks and she rode out high high. She called his name again as it came to a close, and she whimpered and wiped at her eyes. “O-Oh, Chat…”

She couldn’t see him, but she could feel him tilting his head at her with concern. “Marinette?”

She felt him brush away her tears and she laughed and gasped. “Oh, Chat, oh please.”

“Please what? Why are you crying”

She shook her head, wrapped her arms around him again. “You silly cat, I’m crying because I- I have never… that felt so good.”

The concern in those lime green eyes of his turned to bashfulness, then pride. He smiled at her and leaned down to press his nose to her. “Are you ready, My Lady?”

She wiped her eyes one more time, then nodded. “Always, Chat.” She glanced down, and despite the fact that she wasn’t new at this anymore-- she had still only seen one man before. Adrien, though, she didn’t even recall him taking off his pants. But there he sat, in the open poised and  _ beautiful _ and set just above her entrance. Her face turned beet red. He laughed.

“Really, Princess? You’re getting shy  _ now _ ?”

“H-Hey I just--! Y-You’re--!” Big? No. A mouthful? Yes. Well-kept? Also yes. Mouthwatering? Triple yes. She glanced between him and his member, cheeks going red with more than just their activity. “Chat, just shut up and love me.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “As My Lady wishes!”

He pressed in, and already she felt herself building again. She could feel herself swallowing him whole, feel him filling her as he pressed onward. He gasped, and she helpfully rolled her hips. He whimpered (glad she wasn’t the only one) and hung his head. “M-Marinette…”

“Adrien…” She pulled him to her chest, and he buried his nose in her, slowly finding a rhythm as he worked back and forth. His breathing became labored, and she felt her own rising. She started bucking into him faster, and he took the cue to move more. He choked as she tightened around him.

“Oh, Marinette…” He kissed under her breast, and took her hips in his hands as he started to pound into her. Like a dance, of course they were in sync. They were soulmates, pieces of each other that fit just right.

She gasped and leaned up as he pulled her upward, and she came to straddle him as he came in and out of her, and she bounced up and down on him. Her hands found their way to his hair again, and she pulled and tugged and tangled it as he filled her completely. He leaned up and whispered into her ear like a mantra.

“I love you.”

He repeated it, again and again as they came together again and again. “Adrien!” She tilted herself back, gasping for air as she felt herself coiling. He started going faster, harder, and she cried out as he did. They came together, and a guttural noise slipped past his lips as he fell back and she followed. He pulled out of her, but he laid on him, eyes filling with tears again. This time he knew how she felt. He kissed her cheeks, her nose, the corners of her lips. “Adrien, I love you.”

“I love you, so much.”

She dug her nose into his neck, and they both struggled to catch their breath.

* * *

Lila was… well, Marinette wasn’t sure she could call what Lila was giving her a ‘glare’, because that was much too nice of a word for the absolute murder in her eyes. She winced and squeezed the pinki Adrien had slipped into hers, and he leaned over with no hesitation and pressed a warm kiss to her head. Rose squealed, and Alya was struggling not to throttle Nino, though she looked desperately in need of shaking someone too see if they saw the same thing she did. “Girl! Just last night Mister Tall, Dark, and Handsome was picking you up! What happened?” Nino winced as her nails dug into his flesh, and she quickly pulled away and mumbled an apology that he laughed at.

Marinette giggled, suddenly becoming tongue-tied. Adrien watched her from the side, the same gentle, sunshine-smile he always had. “I- Bu-- uh, well… you see--!”

He gave his best model smile, but it was real, and everyone could see it in his eyes as he squeezed her hand. “Dealing with a fake Ladybug reminded me just how much I enjoyed our Everyday Ladybug.” Marinette looked at him, and he raised their joined hands to press a kiss to the back of hers. Her heart just about leaped into her throat, and Rose squealed even louder.

“Marinette! I’m so proud of you! Operation Secret Garden was a success after all!” She giggled to herself and left on Juleka’s arm with another nod of congratulations, leaving the original four to their own-- astonishing and embarrassing-- devices.

Nino blinked. “Secret Garden...?”

Alya raised one finger to his lips. “Baby, hush.”

Marinette’s cheeks burned, and she tried not to look at Adrien (who she just  _ felt _ staring at her), but she shouldn’t be having this reaction still after what they’d done the night before! She chanced a glance at Adrien, who was smiling conspiratorially at her. She frowned, because that grin was his Chat grin. The one he had when he was about to make a pun--

“ _ My _ Operation of a Secret Garden was a success, anyway.”

She squeaked and pulled her hand out of his grasp, covering her very red, very angry, very happy face. Alya screamed like a banshee and started bugging her about details, while Nino’s eyes widened before he hung and shook his head. Adrien laughed out loud, and she smacked his arm and glared.

_ Shut up, you stupid cat! _

He grinned back at her and raised his eyebrows twice.

_ Make me, Princess. _

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry guys, no extended Viktor fic ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Since some of y'all wanna act entitled, this piece is staying exactly as it is, whether I think I could spruce it up or not-- and if I do ever end up writing that fic, it will be done my way, on my own terms, whether you all think Adrien deserves her or not. I'll just take the lessons I learned here and the constructive criticism and focus on my current fic with a similar premise, thanks to everyone who provided feedback and their thoughts, and especially those who loved this fic despite it clearly not being my best work ^_^ Comments are being turned off because I want them to be! 😘
> 
> See you guys in another fandom! ❤️


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